


bread is a petty thing to get in a fight over, and an odd way to commence your first kiss

by survivalinstinctvalkyria



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: I'm just tired, M/M, This isn't crack though, This was written at 6am edited at 7am and posted at 8am before going to bed, fluff?, the file name is "mitsutomo I want death"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 05:38:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15212366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/survivalinstinctvalkyria/pseuds/survivalinstinctvalkyria
Summary: Really, it's Mitsuru and his stupid bread's fault that all this has happened—yeah, it's not Tomoya's fault at all.





	bread is a petty thing to get in a fight over, and an odd way to commence your first kiss

**Author's Note:**

  * For [izukasa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/izukasa/gifts).



> I'm so confused.
> 
> The entire basis of this fic was me using Mitsuru's love of bread as a plot device how did it get to 2.7k words long

“Seriously, Mitsuru, quit running!”

Mitsuru laughs obnoxiously, and continues his fast-paced sprint down the hallway. In hot pursuit of him is Tomoya, cursing the fact that he was the one chosen to track him down. He's been chasing Mitsuru for the past five minutes, but unlike his unit-mate, he is actually capable of getting tired, and has, indeed, become progressively tired over the course of chasing Mitsuru. But right now, he needs to focus on catching Mitsuru, so he assures himself that he’ll be given a break soon, and looks back at Mitsuru with a renewed energy.

Reaching a bend, Mitsuru shifts his weight onto his left foot so that he can turn without decelerating. In doing that, however, he accidentally loosens his grip on the bag of bread he's holding in his hand, and drops it. Immediately, he turns back around to try and retrieve it, but it's too late, Tomoya is already leaning down to pick it up. When Mitsuru runs over to try and pull it from his grasp, Tomoya turns away and leave Mitsuru pummeling into his back.

“Tomo-chan, give it back!” he wails, but Tomoya feels no remorse.

“No, you made me run after you, and you dropped it, so it's mine now. That's your punishment, and if you complain about it, I'll take some of your bento, too,” he warns, grabbing Mitsuru's hand to drag him to his class.

* * *

 

“Oh, you two made it!” Hajime’s voice rings from their corner of the classroom. “I was beginning to worry you two wouldn't make it back for lunch,” he says with a giggle, and gestures to the two unopened bentos laid out on the table. “Eat up!” he chirps, and the other two happily sit down to comply.

“Thanks for the meal!” Mitsuru yells absentmindedly as he sits down, already eying up his bento and digging through it to inspect it.

“Thanks for the meal,” Tomoya mirrors Mitsuru's sentiment between pants, and takes a seat next to him. “Oh, these look really nice, Hajime.”

Hajime smiles. “Thank you, Tomoya-kun _—_ Oh, Mitsuru-kun, shouldn't you eat a little slower? I'm worried that you'll choke.”

Mitsuru pauses to put down the bento that he had been holding right against his face, and flashes a thumbs up to match his grin. “I'm fine! But I'm tired after being chased by Tomo-chin for so long, yanno,” he tells Hajime, sticking his tongue out at Tomoya.

“Like you have any right to speak! It's your fault that I had to chase after you, so take some responsibility,” Tomoya scolds, taking a bite from his rice ball. Mitsuru ignores him in favor of resuming his assault on his lunch.

“Oh, Nii-chan passed by earlier, and he said he rented out a studio for us to practice in today,” Hajime starts. “He mentioned that he choreographed an advanced dance for Mitsuru-kun. Aha, I'm kind of jealous, but I'm proud of you. You're super good at that kind of thing, huh?”

Dropping his bento and utensil down onto the desk abruptly, Mitsuru stretches before replying. “I do a lot of sports, yanno. We can go running someday if you want, Hajime-chan.” Hajime nods with a smile.

“At least try and not be noisy while we're eating. Honestly, athletics are all you're good at, you know? You're too noisy for a high schooler,” Tomoya tells Mitsuru as he raises his eyebrows.

“That's not true! I think Mitsuru-kun has a nice voice; it's really mature, you know? And he has a nice vibrato, so his voice is really unique. It just screams 'Mitsuru-kun’, doesn't it?” Hajime buts in.

“Really?” Mitsuru asks Hajime with genuine interest, and Hajime nods. “Thank you! See, Tomo-chan? Athletics aren't all I'm good at.” Tomoya simply sighs. “And besides, even if they were, I'd still need to eat lots in order to make sure I have enough energy.”

“I never complained about your weight,” Tomoya points out, but Mitsuru shakes his head.

“You took my bread, and I'm hungry.” He makes a grab at the bag of bread, but Tomoya pulls it away before he can reach it.

“No. It's your punishment, remember? It's my bread now,” Tomoya tells him. Mitsuru crosses his arm to pout, and Hajime giggles from across the table. Ignoring the annoyed brunette besides him, Tomoya rips open the package, and is met with the floury scent of bread, albeit not exactly fresh _—_ this was store-bought, after all. He pulls it out and examines it, even though he's seen it what seems like thousand times already due to a certain track team member eating it every day. Bringing it up to his nose, he sniffs it loudly, and heaves an exaggerated, contented sigh. “Mm, this smells really good, Mitsuru. Maybe I'll tag along when you buy this tomorrow.” The look on Mitsuru's face by this point is one of pure anguish, and Tomoya feels a guilty pleasure in driving the happy-go-lucky Mitsuru to this point, even if only over something as petty as bread. Lowering the bread, he eyes it once more before putting it between his lips and taking a bite. He tears a small piece off with his teeth, chews it, and then swallows. A rather small piece of bread is left, so he figures he could eat it all in one go, and sticks the rest in his mouth. He turns to Mitsuru and tries to say “This is what you get for running on ahead,” but it's muffled by the bread. He's certain that Mitsuru is throwing a silent temper tantrum now, but that's what he's come to expect, so he's prepared to deal with it. What he doesn't expect, however, is to suddenly feel Mitsuru's breath against his cheek.

 

“You let your guard down, Tomo-chan! It's my bread now!” Tomoya hears faintly, before Mitsuru leans against him and presses his open mouth against Tomoya’s in an effort to grab onto the bread with his teeth. Out of surprise for feeling another pair of lips against his, even with the bread between them, Tomoya opens his mouth in a gasp, and accidentally gives Mitsuru the chance to pull away with the bread. Mitsuru takes the chance, and pulls away with a laugh.

Almost instantaneously Tomoya's face goes beet-red, and he wipes his lips with the back of his hand. Unfairly, Mitsuru seems unfazed, and eats his reclaimed bread with vigor. Looking across the table, Hajime’s face entertains both surprise and amusement, and Tomoya feels dread bubble up inside of him.

“Fufu, you two kissed.”

And at that, Mitsuru's face goes aflame, and he takes sudden interest in the view of the ocean that the window provides. “Hajime-chan!” he squeals, and Tomoya can't help but pity him.

“But it's true,” Hajime refutes, with a sing-song tone in his voice, and Tomoya can't help but feel sudden empathy for Midori, as the phrase 'I want to die’ reverberates across his mind _—_ or, at least, what part of his mind is functioning.

“Whatever, just forget it. The bell is gonna ring soon, so you'd better get back to your class, Mitsuru,” Tomoya says, and Mitsuru’s eyes go wide for a second, before he stands up abruptly, and 'dash-dashes’ out of the room. Tomoya heaves a sigh, and turns back to Hajime, still evidently amused, although now possibly exasperated, as well.

“Oh, looks like it's just the two of us for clean up today, then,” the blue-haired boy says, and Tomoya prays that all is forgotten.

* * *

 

The only time that Tomoya finds Mitsuru bearable is when he's performing. He sings alongside the rest of them instead a blabbering, with a heavenly voice that rivals even Hajime, even if it sounds a bit too mature for their unit. Perhaps it levels him out in away; his behavior is far too immature for his age, while his voice sounds too mature for unit. But it's fine either way _—_ if all four of them had the same high-pitched voice, it'd be boring, right? It's better that they have someone with a less-fitting but still pleasing voice. And it helps that it is a really, _really_ nice voice.

Besides that, Mitsuru dances well. Actually, he's the best in the unit, no doubt about it. He just possesses this certain fluidity in dancing that the others lack, like he was born to do it. Whether it be one of the more simple dances that Tomoya and Hajime dance to, or a more complex dance choreographed for him alone, he's able to dance to it with a certain excitement that never fails to charm Tomoya.

Wait, charm? No, no, no _—_ there's no way that Tomoya is charmed. It's because he's jealous of how easy it is for Mitsuru, is all. Tomoya shakes his head, and looks to the rest of the unit, or where they should be, at least. But they're not there, and Tomoya is stuck looking back at Mitsuru.

“You okay, Tomo-chan? You've been standing there in a daze since practice ended, but you didn't say anything about wanting to practice some more, so I just left you there,” Mitsuru tells him, pausing his movements. Tomoya blinks a few times, like a baby trying to adjust itself to the world for the first time, before shaking his head.

“I'm fine. I'll just… watch you, okay?” He walks over to the closest wall, and slumps against before sliding into a sitting position.

Mitsuru shrugs. “Suit yourself.” He leans down to restart the song, before quickly repositioning himself at the center of the room. Once again, his motions are seemingly effortless, and Tomoya can't help but watch in awe. There's a twist here, and turn there, then a display of intricate footwork that puts Tomoya's stomach in knots every time, he even thinks about trying to pull it off himself. But he doesn't have to do that _—_ at least, not _now_ , and he's content to watch Mitsuru dance in front of him. All goes smoothly, until the song reaches the part right before the bridge, and the look on Mitsuru's face goes from that of a child having fun, to someone who's determined to overcome failure. It's a difficult part, for sure; first, step back, then turn and spread your arms and lift your left leg to accommodate for your bodies position _—_ and then, Mitsuru is tumbling to the ground. He sighs slightly, before making his way back to the MP3 player.

“You don't have to perfect it today, y'know? You're already way ahead of Hajime and I,” Tomoya speaks up from his spot against the wall, and Mitsuru jolts with surprise, before turning to him with a look that tells Tomoya that he was definitely forgotten about.

“But I want to,” is the response.

“Why? It's not like we'll abandon you or anything if you're not good enough, so you don't need to worry,” Tomoya reasons, or at least tries to, because Mitsuru shakes his head.

“Yeah, you say that, but I'm still always causing problems for you three, yanno. If I'm gonna keep running on ahead for you guys, I should be able to do it properly, right?” Mitsuru’s face recalls nothing of the happy-go-lucky boy he usually is _—_ instead, he wears a sad smile, and Tomoya wonders if this is the same boy. But, of course, it is, because Mitsuru isn't just some idiot with no self-awareness, and Tomoya knows this. He knows that Mitsuru has been struggling with the fact that he's inevitably going to grow. (And, undoubtedly, be absolutely gorgeous once he finally matures fully, but, hey, don't call Tomoya out for thinking that.)

“Even if you think that, I don't _want_ to push you away, so at least know that I won't push you away,” Tomoya says, before glancing to the side hesitantly, “…If what happened before has you worried, don't be worried. It didn't change anything, if that's what's bothering you.”

That definitely gets a reaction out of Mitsuru, as he looks up at Tomoya in alarm despite the reassurance. “But I-”

“We kissed, I know. But that was just an accident, right? I don't think you're gross or anything,” Tomoya interrupts, and Mitsuru's expression is almost pained at that.

“But I didn't mind kissing you, and even if it was an accident I don't want to think of it as an accident, so I feel guilty because you think that I'm thinking the same thing as you.”

At that, Tomoya short-circuits, color flooding onto his features in record time. A stuttered “eh?” escapes him as he tries to seek answers in Mitsuru's eyes.

Color floods Mitsuru's face as well, and he averts his eyes with a sigh. “I… I wouldn't mind kissing you again. Actually, I- I've wanted to kiss you for a while, but… Oh, and that's 'cause I-”

“You're rambling,” Tomoya cuts in once more, and uses the hand positioned against the glass of the mirror to steady himself as he stands. He walks over to where Mitsuru is sitting, and _—_ almost roughly _—_ places his palms on the other boy's cheeks. “So, you like me, right? I don't mind that, or the fact that you want to kiss me, so, go ahead, I guess.”

Mitsuru looks up at him with a look of pure confusion, and Tomoya laughs _—_ or, tries to, at least, but all that comes out is a breathy chuckle. Loosening his grip on Mitsuru's cheeks so that its gentle, almost fond, he leans down all the way so that their lips can meet. It's awkward at first, neither of them really knowing how to go about this, but it's nice in its own odd way. When Mitsuru tries to reciprocate by pressing his lips back against Tomoya's, he accidentally tilts his head the wrong way, and the two of them part.

“Seriously, don't screw this up, Idiot Mitsuru,” Tomoya pouts, but Mitsuru only laughs and reaches up to grab onto the back of Tomoya's shirt, effectively making him lose balance, hence sending him tumbling down, and since he was standing right above Mitsuru, he conveniently lands on Mitsuru's lap. Before Mitsuru can kiss him again, he adjusts his legs so that they're on other side of Mitsuru, and squeezing against Mitsuru's abdomen. As their lips meet again, Tomoya can only vaguely remember his conscience when it didn't revolve around _Mitsuru_ , because now all of his senses are flooded by the brunette _—_ the afterimage of Mitsuru dancing glowing in Tomoya's sight even with his eyes closed; the sound of the floorboards creaking from the effort of holding up Mitsuru as Tomoya leans all of his weight against him being the sound that Tomoya most distinctly makes out; the scent of sweat from a long day of practice, and now, a bit if nerves and excitement clogs up Tomoya's sense of smell; the taste of Mitsuru's lips against his is sweet and enticing; and his sense of touched is overwhelmed by everything from the softness of Mitsuru's cheeks under his palms, to the warmth shared between them. They pull apart again to breathe, and Mitsuru laughs with a goofy smile on his face.

“You like me, too,” he says, as if Tomoya isn't sitting on his lap and _kissing_ him.

“No, duh. What did you think?” Tomoya hisses out in annoyance.

“I dunno. Tomo-chan’s kinda hard to read, yanno?” Mitsuru peers up at Tomoya through brown eyes tinged with a youthful vigor.

“I'm seriously not. Well, actually, that's better than me just being _normal_ , so it's not _that_ bad,” he tells Mitsuru, before curling into Mitsuru's chest. “Nii-chan’s gonna kill us.”

“What, why?”

“Because,” Tomoya answers, but Mitsuru only shakes his head. The fingers that were caressing the small of Tomoya's back gravitate up towards his head, and begin to comb through Tomoya’s hair, and Tomoya subconsciously leans into the touch.

“It doesn't matter, though, right? You're _super_ warm, Tomo-chan, I could fall asleep like this,” he breathes against Tomoya's bangs.

“Don't, that'd be the worst. If you wanna sleep, get up and do it somewhere normal,” Tomoya grumbles back.

“Eh, but I'm comfy like this,” Mitsuru reasons.

And Tomoya can't find fault with that logic like he usually would, so he lifts his head from Mitsuru's chest to plant a chaste kiss to his lips, and mumble something of likeness to, “Then I guess it's fine; just this once, though,” before relishing in the feeling on Mitsuru's laughter against his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Next is Keichi then something Bandori


End file.
